


Blank page

by PeggyCarters



Category: Shefani, The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M, Shefani - Freeform, The Voice, like a bit, this is AU you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 19:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeggyCarters/pseuds/PeggyCarters
Summary: When the charcoal touches the rough recycled paper of his old scrapbook it all feels right again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's AU, keep that in mind. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this.

When the charcoal touches the rough recycled paper of his old scrapbook it all feels right again. He had found the spiral book inside some boxes while unpacking in his brand new two-bedroom apartment downtown that he had found online one day sitting at his mother's sofa. The dude that offered to share the place sounded chill and normal through the phone so he made the crazy decision to accept the room by just checking out some pictures on the internet. His mother cries when he tell her that he's moving out and he take her in his arms and cradles her head shushing and murmuring sweet words in her ear.

"Country music ain't in Los Angeles, Blake."

"Wasted five years in Nashville thanks to the damn country music. A twist is what I need." And he's sure of it.

  


Two months later all he has accomplished is getting a crappy job as a barman in a musical bar where they let him perform from time to time. He moves his EP around town but gets lots of _this is not what we're looking for right now, good but too country_ and also direct _noes._ The way the metro slides on the rails calms him down. He takes a deep breath and looks around. The metro isn't full but not empty either, it's the perfect amount of noisy but still quiet in some way, and that relaxes him. Without taking his eyes off the people he's studying his right hand travels down to open the backpack, that is sitting on his feet, to take a old black drawing book, which he sets on his lap and then closes the bag again. He looks down to find a blank page in between fully doodled pages. _I need to get a new book._ He says to himself as he reaches inside the pocket of his plaid shirt for his charcoal. His orange and grey baggy plaid shirt probably has black pocket by now but he really doesn't care much. Taking his iPod from his jeans pocket he grabs his headphones and plugs them in, to let the music take over him. He wonders if he will remember how to draw but as soon as the pencil touches the blank page a smile appears on his lips as his hand moves on the plain surface drawing nothing in particular. This nothing in particular ends up being the old lady in front of him who, once he is done, smiles at him and gives him a thumbs up when he shows the drawing to her. When he had starting doing this, drawing random people wherever he was, he had been scared of other people's reactions, so he used to look at his muses from the corner of his eye to not get noticed. Now he doesn't hide it anymore and normally people don't call out on him. Some smile at him and even pose a little bit, stealing a grin from the artist, when they do.

The old lady stands up and stumbles a little bit but Blake is there to catch her before she can lose her balance again. She thanks him a thousand times and Blake says a thousand and one _no problems_ back. He beams at the woman and then even presses the open the doors button for her to descent without much trouble. She stares at him as the doors close and murmurs a thank you again which gets a nod from the young tall guy in response.

 _Mum would be proud._ He smiles as he takes a couple steps back and sinks back on his seat and his scrapbook again. Some stops later, he looks up to see he still has some time in this smelly metro so he looks down and continues his drawing again, as a Tim McGraw oldie blasts through the headphones. He is everything Blake wants to be. At his 25 years of age Blake knows that he's at a age between good and late enter the business. He is not that adorable dimpled eighteen year old face anymore, but he is more mature now and he guesses those are extra points in his advantage. Teenage stars can be trouble with capital T. But He has never given up on music, he keeps trying because country music is everything he wants to do in his life. These thoughts have him drawing a man in boots and a cowboy hat with a guitar hanging off of his body. _One day, Blake._ He sighs. How many times has he repeated these exact words in his head? How many times has he said them out loud after a rejection from a record level? He has lost count.

When he looks up again to see a blonde lady standing in front of him. From under the bill of his cap he studies her. Her blond curvy locks frame her white porcelain face. The ripped skinny jeans she is wearing go so well with the white v-neck shirt she's pulling off so easily with sunglasses hanging off of the V part. He's still looking at her from under his green cap when he realizes that his hand is doodling at the back of his drawing of the country star. He was so into her that he hadn't even realized he had starting drawing. The lady has headphones plugged in and looks so into whatever book she is reading. He observes that said book has no cover, so he makes up that she's reading a classic, Tolstoy's _War and Peace_ , maybe Dickens, even Shakespeare or Sir Conan Doyle. Maybe she's just reading a law book, but he likes to think it's more than that. She turns the page and then looks up, so Blake looks down as fast as he can because after a few years, he has learnt that staring at people can be a little creepy. He had learnt that at high school when his history teacher had had enough of him staring at his table partner, Emily. He remembers thinking she was the prettiest thing. His 10 year old self hadn't handled her rejection to hold hands at the playground very well so he had had to go to class heartbroken every day until summertime came a month after the huge heartbreak.

His eyes grow at the drawing on his lap. Without even really looking down, just staring at the girl, he had done quite a good job, so he decides to turn the page and draw her again, this time stealing glances at her. One look up, one down and he has her face, no eyes or mouth yet, that's the last thing he draws. When he looks up again, he finds her eyes on him.

_Damn._

He looks down again, turns the page and pretends to draw something else. From the corner of his eyes, he sees her chuckle and go back to her book, so being as cautious as he can be, he looks up again and turns a few pages until he finds a blank one. He used to not care when people looked at him when he was drawing them. Why is he feeling guilty now?

Keeping his head down, he draws as much as he can remember, but when it's time to add the details he looks up to find her engrossed in her novel.

 

She's so lost in whatever she's reading that Blake gets to stare and study her for a few long seconds. He takes everything of her in. The small smile that appears on her face to the little twinkle of her eyes when she turns the page, reads a few words but then goes back to the page before to make sure she read it right. Blake chuckles and goes back to his drawing. The white shirt and jeans are what he draws next and then, from under the bill, he checks again to see that she's indeed wearing a pair of black and white vans. She's so stylish without even trying. Blake presses his smiley lips together and chuckles thinking that he must look like a lost boy to her clean Wendy look. _I need to watch Peter Pan again_ . He says to himself. _That was a random comparison, even for you._ He likes talking to himself, he even tries different voices to do so, so the replies seems to come from another person that's advising him. He shakes his head as the male voice calling out another station blasts through the speakers and he checks the blinking map on top of the door to see that he still has five stops to go. When he tears his eyes away from the stops map to let his eyes travel to the mystery lady he sees she's also checking the map. He takes a deep breath as he takes in her look. He's mesmerized by her profile. She's stunning. It amazes him how gorgeous she is and she looks like she just got out of class and is on her way back home. _Don't law students dress more classy?_ He thinks. _Okay she's definitely reading a novel and not a boring law book_ . The mystery girl looks more alive and fun than the image of a suit or skirt wearing law student he has on his head, anyway. Maybe she's an arts major, or psychology. _Nah_ . _Definitely something art related_ . He's still looking at her when she brings her gaze back to the book, meeting his eyes in the process. He freezes. She literally just caught him staring at her like a lovesick fool, like an hormonal teenager _. Dammit, Shelton!_

He's even more taken aback when a soft and beautiful smile appears on her face and he shots a dimpled one back to her. She seems to like the dimples because she chuckles and puts a strand of hair behind her ear, shyly. Her eyes travel to the ground for a brief second while Blake's follow her movement. When she looks back up he does too, _Hi_ . She just mouths the words but in his mind she has the softest voice. He looks behind him and then turns his head to look back at her with a hand on his chest, _Me?_ She throws her head down laughing softly at his comedian antics and when she looks back up he greets her back. In contrast of her, Blake decides to turn his cap into a snapback and then speak up, "Hello." It's a whisper but it has her beaming at him as her index finger runs up and down the spine of the book. With a silly smile on her face, she goes back to the book and Blake to his drawing. He probably doesn't have a lot of stops left so he needs to finish his drawing as soon as possible.

And he does. Just a stop before his, he stares at his drawing of her and his cheeks twitch up at the result. He nods at the drawing and then contemplates tearing the page away and hand it to her before descending or keeping it to himself. He has never given any of his muses a drawing before, but at the same time none hadn’t really interacted with him more than a soft or sometimes creepy smile.

He hears the voice call out the next stop and he puts the charcoal back on the pocket of his plaid as he thinks about putting his scrapbook back inside the bag or keep it on his hand. He decides to carry it, thinking about the option of giving her the drawing. He keeps his cap backwards and touches his neck with his free hand. He takes a step forward and from the corner of his eye watches her shyly look up at him and then back to the book, trying to not get caught by him. He takes the time to properly observe her one last time and then quickly looks down to his spiral book as the train starts to reduce the speed. _Think fast, Blake._ He tightens the hold on his old black book and sighs. He's going to keep the drawing. _This is nuts._

He's on the first wagon, so when the underground enters the station he still has a few seconds to think about what to do. From the corner of his eye he glances at her again to see her biting her lower lip. And _oh god_ he hopes she's as nervous as him this exact moment, or is she just reading a damn good scene on the book deserving of a lip bite?

The train stops and he goes all in. He tears the page off the spiral and literally puts it on her book, making her grab a hold of it so everything doesn't fall down.

When she meets his eyes she looks confused, maybe a little scared at his sudden movement as well.

"Sorry." He clears his throat, to hide away his nerves and then touches the nape of his neck, where the mystery girl sees he has little curls hiding under the bill of his snapback. "This is for you." He doesn't even have time to see her cheeks twitch up because as soon as he says the words, the doors open and he's stepping outside the metro as fast as lighting. He's about to just run off along the platform but he decides to stop and turn around. When he does she's already looking at him. She gets framed right in the middle of the metro window and Blake takes a mental picture to draw that later. Her cheeks are a little bit red, her book is closed on her hands, with his drawing on top, being held by her petite hands. She shyly smiles at him and he does the same back, sliding his arms inside the straps of his bag. He bounces on his feet as he stares hopelessly at her. The beep-beep sound of the doors closing startles them both making them let out a little laugh at their exact reaction. He bows down at her, making her cheeks turn a little more red and her smile grow on her face.

She opens her mouth to speak but ends up mouthing her name at him as clear as she can be.

"Gwen." He beams at how hard she tries to make him understand her name. He gets it the first time and says it back to her, earning a nod from the mystery woman who goes by the name of Gwen. _Such a cool name_ , he thinks.

He puts a hand on his chest, while the other still grabs ahold of the drawing book, "Blake." She frowns and he tries again, "B L A K E."

"Blake." She responds. The plaid wearing guy nods happily as he throws her one last smile and then watches as the train starts to move and he loses her and she loses him, when the underground enters the tunnel on its way to next station.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Something similar happened to me the other day onw back home and I wasn't readying a classic, but I was reading a damn good book called The Princess of Ireland, and there was this guy sitting close to me and he started to draw me and it was funny because I caught him staring at me and so did he. It was cute lol  
> Anyways, he kept the drawing, so bugger... lol :)  
> I hope the little dialogue didn't upset anyone but I really needed to get this story out.


End file.
